by E A Price
The Reindeer’s Secret Santa Gift
E A Price
Copyright ©2018 by Elizabeth Ann Price
All rights reserved. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of my overactive imagination or used in a completely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events and places is purely coincidental. Though, if reindeer shifters really existed, that would be totally cool.
Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Prologue
December 14th
Branch Conners grumbled a few hellos as he escaped to his office. The only thing worse than an office party was an office Christmas party.
Damn Christmas he thought in irritation – except he didn’t use the word damn.
Honestly, everyone just used the office Christmas party as an excuse to get drunk, Xerox their asses and hook up. The next day, the building smelled of alcohol, puke, and regret.
Whatever morals and decorum anyone had immediately fled the moment Christmas was involved. Somehow, everyone was so much looser and debauched, and Branch hated the damn holiday. Again, he didn’t use the word damn.
Branch was the alpha bull of their reindeer shifter herd and CEO of Deer Co, owners of resorts all over the world. Though their headquarters was firmly in Chicago. Many of the herd indulged in their resorts and visited them on a regular basis, but Branch was far too busy for that. Besides, everything he wanted was in Chicago. What could be gained by visiting a tropical island? They probably didn’t have the blend of coffee he liked.
He dropped his untouched drink into the nearest potted plant and strode to his office. He was the boss, so he put in an appearance – mostly to appease his worried mother, but that was it, he wasn’t staying. He was taking his ass as far away from the festivities as possible.
Besides, he had more significant problems. He had the worry about the future of his herd, plenty of work to do and he probably had to destroy whatever Secret Santa gift had been left there.
It’s in your office, his brother had teased. It’s just what you’re looking for. Enjoy. This had been followed by an overtly lascivious wink.
Branch dreaded to think. His brother’s gifts had varied over the years from a python to a blow-up sex doll – a male blow-up sex doll. The latter had been particularly embarrassing, as his brother had stashed the thing in Branch’s desk drawer and it inflated during a meeting with one of their professional partners. Knowing Branch’s reaction, his brother ran all the way to India and hid for a month after that happened.
Branch tried to hold back his disgust as he passed one of the herd enforcers with his hands up a member of legal’s blouse.
Damn Christmas. Except he definitely didn’t use the word damn.
He pushed his way into his office. Abruptly he stopped upon finding a young woman dressed as an elf glaring at him.
That was certainly an improvement on the blow-up doll. Definitely an improvement on the python.
One
December 1st
“Come along, darling, just choose a name.”
Branch Connors glowered at his mother and let out a long snort. She was already wearing a snowman sweater – a snowman sweater with flashing lights. She started earlier and earlier every year. “Secret Santa, Mother? Really?”
Martha Connors shook the Santa hat at him. “‘Tis the season, darling.”
She smiled in the maddeningly benevolent way she always did when she wanted him to eat his vegetables or hire one of her ‘special cases.’ She was big on charity. Since her last ‘special case’ almost burned down the mailroom, he was starting to become immune to that smile. Though, for the sake of a quiet life, he thought it best to submit to the Secret Santa and have done with it. After all, he could just have his assistant buy the blasted gift for him. He really didn’t have to put any effort into it at all.
Roughly, he stuck his hand in the hat and grasped a piece of paper. He pulled it out and looked at it briefly before dismissing it completely. It was a second cousin of his who worked on the fourth floor. Undoubtedly some bottle of alcohol would be suitable. Alcohol was always suitable for his family.
His mother’s smile widened even more and a part of him – the part that had always taken joy in the way her eyes shone with pride whenever he presented her with a flawless report card – glowed.
“I’m so glad you’re getting into the holiday spirit this year.”
She gave him the worried look that he was actually becoming accustomed to – it had been a way of life for the last ten years.
“You know, a fried of mine has a daughter who would be…”
“Mom,” he tried to interrupt her gently.
“Absolutely perfect for you. She’s…”
“Mom.” He lost a little of his patience.
“A doe from a deer herd and…”
“Mother!”
She blinked at him. “Yes, darling?”
“No. No set-ups.” Definitely not with anyone his mother considered suitable. Undoubtedly she would find someone chipper who adores Christmas as much as she did. Which meant, not his type at all.
“But darling, it has been ten years.”
Her sad smile deepened. His insides clenched as he thought of his late mate.
“I’m already seeing someone,” he lied.
Her eyes widened. “You are?”
“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” he grumbled. Even if he was lying, surely it wasn’t unbelievable for him to actually find a woman to date him on his own. Women hit on him all the time. Well, sometimes anyway.
“I’m not shocked at all; I’m delighted to hear it. You must invite her to dinner; I’d love to meet her.”
Branch grumbled something unintelligible.
She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, darling,” she trilled before bouncing away to inflict some holiday spirit on more unsuspecting members of their herd.
Branch turned his attention back to his report and tried not to growl as he thought about how much he hated Christmas and all the forced cheer, the drunkenness, the overspending...
Just breathe he told himself. It will all be over in a month.
He got back to his report. One of his junior accountants had drawn his attention to a discrepancy in their accounts. He didn’t usually handle that kind of issue; as CFO, that was his uncle’s domain, but the young cow had mentioned the matter when they were waiting an elevator to
gether. She was nervous and babbling, and it came out. He told her to send him the reports, and he would look into it. He couldn’t make heads nor tails out of some of these expenses. What on earth was Snow Bunnies? That was probably his brother sneaking in some kind of expense that had no business being charged to the company. Knowing his brother, it was probably a strip club. Well, that wasn’t the anomaly in the accounts, but he would certainly put a stop to the amount of money they were throwing at it each month. That was one of many things to go, including the completely unnecessary horse-drawn cart and driver they kept on staff. Why on earth would they need one of those on staff?!
“Hey!”
Branch curled a lip and huffed as his brother, Harlan, sauntered into the office without knocking.
“Can’t you knock?” he growled.
While reindeer predominantly prefer leafy greens, they certainly weren’t pussies when it came to fights. Anyone on the wrong end of their antlers could attest to that. While they may not have the pointy teeth of wolves and bears, Branch was not above growling at anyone – especially those who wanted something.
“I can,” he smirked dropping into a seat and flinging a leg over one of the arms. “I just don’t.”
“What do you want?” Because he always wanted something. “I’m very busy.”
Probably not something his brother would recognize since he had been coasting since he was flung out of college. Burn down three buildings, and the College Board was totally unreasonable!
“Lighten up, bro,’ it’s Christmas.”
“It’s December 1st,” grumbled Branch.
“Exactly, almost Christmas.”
Branch rolled his eyes. Just because he was a reindeer, it did not mean he was a Christmassy person. If he could, he would go to work on Christmas day, but that would make his mother cry and give him that awful queasy feeling in his stomach. But while he had to attend dinner on Christmas day, he certainly didn’t have to attend the myriad of gawdawful holiday events she organized throughout December.
“What happened to your assistant?” asked Harlan.
“Nothing,” said Branch, pointedly trying to get back to the document he had been reading when his mother first interrupted. “I expect he’s out at his desk right now.”
“Yes, exactly, he.”
Branch pursed his lips. He knew what Harlan was getting at – he was just choosing to ignore him. His last assistant, Judy, had been shuffled to another department three days ago. Her tight clothing, short skirts, and overpowering perfume were just about manageable, but coming to work without underwear and choosing to bend over at every available opportunity really was the giddy limit. Judy was moved somewhere else – to an admin job at their resort in Florida he believed – while a suitable replacement called Boris was moved into the role with effortless ease.
Given that Branch was the alpha, he was accustomed to overt displays by females all wanting to become ‘Mrs. Alpha.’ It was a coveted position and the unmated cows – yes, cows was the correct word for female reindeer – of his herd all wanted that role. Women virtually fell at his feet. That happened literally once too. He was also used to stepping over them.
He had been mated, to a member of his herd called Janelle. He had loved her since they were children, and she had been his one – his heart mate, his soul mate – but he had lost her. He wasn’t ready to make the leap again – he could not bear to replace Janelle yet.
Branch would mate, one day – for the sake of the herd. Most likely it would be a mating of convenience. But that day was not here yet, and the female definitely wasn’t his ex-assistant who possessed far too much confidence and far too little underwear. Though, her antics were nothing compared to the pushiest female in the herd – Maris. She had already bought a wedding dress and kept a calligrapher on retainer, ready to create invitations with flair for their wedding!
Harlan huffed when he realized Branch wasn’t going to be any more forthcoming than a brick wall. Unlike Branch, Harlan had found Judy’s antics ‘hilarious.’
“Mom make you pick your Secret Santa victim?” asked Harlan.
“Yes,” rumbled Branch.
No doubt she was already off force feeding merry cheer to other members of the herd. It was only a matter of time before she got out the Christmas decorations and donned her hideous musical brooch. Damn thing wouldn’t break no matter how many hammers or hooves it fell under.
“Who’d you get?”
“Roger,” he replied dismissively. It hardly mattered.
His brother gave him an awfully smug smile, and Branch groaned. “You got me, didn’t you?”
“I’m not saying a word,” said his brother with far too much glee.
Branch ran a hand through his hair. Terrific. As if Christmas couldn’t get any worse.
“I’m going to tell Mom I’m not taking part this year.”
“No, you won’t.”
Harlan gave him an infinitely smug smile, and Branch sagged.
“No I won’t,” he agreed dismally.
He wouldn’t hurt her feelings for the sake of an awful Secret Santa gift. She lived for Christmas; he wouldn’t take that away from her just because his brother pissed him off and he loathed the damn holiday.
“She’ll make you love Christmas yet,” taunted Harlan.
Branch snorted in disbelief. Unlikely. That would take some sort of damn miracle.
Two
December 3rd
Mira dropped a teaspoon of nutmeg into her cookie batter, shrugged, and then dropped another. Hey, it was Christmas – things could not be too nutmeggy at Christmas. ‘Tis the season and all that. Her new recipe for eggnog cookies was going to go down a treat, even if she did say so herself. The only issue had been getting it to taste like eggnog without the rum. Because kids would be eating them, she had to make sure they didn’t taste too much like actual rum-laden egg nog – lest some kids loved them too much and decided to run out and start drinking the real deal. She really didn’t want to be the cause of turning kids onto eggnog. Where would it all end?!
She hummed as she stirred her delicious smelling mixture. It was going to be her first Christmas in Chicago. She grew up in Florida, but a few months ago, she decided it was time for a change.
Her dad, and only family in Florida, died earlier in the year and, well, Florida just wasn’t the same without him. Nothing was the same without him, but she was going to celebrate Christmas and honor him the way he deserved. He had always loved Christmas – they always went all out with lights, decorations, and a snow machine - much to the horror of their neighbors.
But without her dad, it wasn’t the same, so she decided to pack up her bags and go somewhere with real snow for Christmas and some authentic looking Christmas trees. Her small town tried, but palm trees with lights on them – all over them, leaves and all - looked very wrong – phallically wrong. Seriously, anyone who hadn’t seen them should google them – stat.
Mira wanted the real Christmas experience – the one from all the movies, with cold weather, snow angels and getting your tongue stuck to freezing metal objects. So when her sister offered her a room, she jumped at the chance.
Temp was her older step-sister – their mom had left both Temp’s and her dad to ‘find herself.’ Temp – short for Tempest – had been raised by her dad while their flighty mother moved on to Florida and met Mira’s dad. She then left to move to Canada and then Mexico before finally moving to Europe. She was generous enough to send her and Temp postcards sporadically, though she felt no guilt for leaving both her kids when they were barely out of diapers. Their mom was currently trying to find herself in marriage number six to a French artist twenty years younger than her.
Chicago was amazing – snow and cold weather just made the whole holiday. Okay, those things didn’t necessarily sound magical, but to Mira who had spent every holiday in shorts, they were.
Plus she had driven by the house from the Home Alone movies – the first two movies at least – four time
s, each time squealing at how amazing it was. Home Alone was by far her favorite Christmas movie, and she watched it at least ten times each holiday season.
Temp was the creator and director of a charity that provided help to sick and disabled children. She organized classes and activities for the kids as well as providing them with a place to go after school if their parents were at work. She also arranged fundraisers to provide financial aid to the parents and organized outings – sometimes educational, though mostly fun so rarely educational. Temp really did live up to her name – she was a whirlwind of activity. She was in charge of everything, drummed up volunteers and guilted wealthy people into donating both their time and money into helping out.
Mira – a small time baker – felt pretty useless and lazy in comparison. But she wasn’t allowed to dwell on that for long. Nope, soon enough Temp had her teaching the kids how to bake, she had her baking cookies for fundraisers and lots of other helpful things. Honestly, Mira had never felt so good about herself in her life. Of course, it didn’t hurt that it was practically Christmas. Her favorite time of year.
Mira was also working at a small sandwich shop. She delivered the sandwiches but had also recently tempted the owners into also selling her cupcakes, and they were thrilled at how much everyone loved them.
As Mira was putting the first batch of eggnog cookies into the oven, she heard Temp come into the kitchen, and then she felt her sister’s hands moving down her legs.
“What are you doing, perv?” asked Mira, not taking her attention away from dropping dollops of dough onto a fresh baking sheet.
“Just checking your measurements,” replied Temp in her usual brisk way.
There was no time for beating about the bush in Temp’s world.
“For?” prompted Mira.
“Your costume.”
She said it like it explained everything.
“Costume? We holding a fancy dress gala or something?” quipped Mira.
“No, but we will need a Santa Claus for the Christmas party and you are the perfect size.”
Mira pursed her lips. She was pretty round – okay, plump – and she found that to be unavoidable given all the heavenly treats she baked on a daily basis. But she was hardly large enough to be Santa Claus. Plus, there were one or two other things she didn’t have either.